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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25344316">boom, headshot</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/imlonelyalready/pseuds/imlonelyalready'>imlonelyalready</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>back on my bullshit [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Team Fortress 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Could be read as just friends, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Imagery, I love them but, Panic Attacks, Tenth Class (Team Fortress 2), all of this is complete bullshit pls dont take it seriously, also i know next to nothing about ASL so my apologies if i get anything wrong, getting shot, i really wanted to go ham with that doctor man, if that's whatchu are lookin for, no joke though you do get shot in the first paragraph so fair warning, please please PLEASE do not read if reading about panic attacks is triggering, pyro has one line that is it so i am not trying to false advertise, that's now a tag ur welcome, uhhh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:27:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,245</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25344316</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/imlonelyalready/pseuds/imlonelyalready</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Panic swelled in her chest as she became hyper-aware of her sudden, glaring existence. She cradled her head in her hands, and it was as if she'd been set on fire; the friction was horrendous, but she felt the unshakable urge to duck and cover. Her throat was nearly desert-like but still impossibly slick, and it <i>hurt</i>; it was like her vocal cords were aimed at shredding each other apart, nails poised and razor-sharp as they rubbed furiously together. A heart-wrenching, loud loud loud loud <i>loud</i> noise was suspended in the air, and, belatedly, she recognized it was her.</p><p>She was still screaming.</p><p> </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Medic (Team Fortress 2)/Reader, Medic (Team Fortress 2)/You, Pyro (Team Fortress 2) &amp; You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>back on my bullshit [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1835401</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>boom, headshot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>"oh, you like writing? that's so cool! what do you like to write about?"</p><p>  <i>nervously looks at the gratuitous amount of fluff, smut, and angst I've written of various men who are at least twice the age of me from a video game made ten years ago</i></p><p>"yeah, y'know, just..... just poems, haha, yeah, that's it, poems haa."</p><p>not even going to lie, i got this idea while i was in the shower. the discord server I'm on (<i>pssst <a href="https://discord.gg/59TcrG">here</a> you should join if ya wanna</i>) was talking about medic this morning, briefly, and i was like hmm..,,,.,</p><p>anyway, i think I'm gonna make a series of shit like this—little drabbles of various mercs while I'm trying to write my main garbage fic. maybe one day I'll take requests?? dunno if anyone would be interested. lmk on either of my tumblrs that're linked in the ending notes🗿🗿</p><p>love y'all💖💖💖, thanks for reading!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There wasn't any time to scream. By the time she'd noticed the small, red dot glowing on the horizon, the bullet had already burrowed itself deep in recesses her skull.</p><p>Without even so much as a whimper, her knees buckled, her body collapsed, <i>hard</i>, and she was on the wooden floor. </p><p>She had been taking the trash out to the bin. Demoman had cooked that night, to everyone's chagrin, and the majority of the odd soup-like mixture had been pitched when the Scot wasn't looking. Granted, the man had been piss-drunk the entire time, and had promptly passed out on the dining room table before anyone could say or do anything; everyone knew what they were getting when the demolitions man was on cooking duty, anyway.</p><p>As she'd lifted the receptacle's metal lid, she'd wondered if she should've made sandwiches when a crimson circle had begun to shine in the distance. </p><p>Then it was dark.</p><p>No, not dark, it was <i>nothing</i>.</p><p>It was searing—hot enough to boil the skin and sinew straight off her bones, but it felt as though pins and needles were keeping her shoddily patched together. For hours disguised as a handful moments, she was everything and nothing—a primordial syrup she was horrified and content to be. </p><p>Then it was bright. <i>Too</i> bright. </p><p>The buzzing from the bulbs overhead was like nails on a chalkboard in her ears, and the texture of the woodgrain on her palms was akin to multiple stabbing knives. Pain rippled throughout her body, with her brain pounding on its bone prison, crying incessantly to be let out. </p><p>So, she did the only thing she could do—she started to scream.</p><p>Panic swelled in her chest as she became hyper-aware of her sudden, glaring existence. She cradled her head in her hands, and it was as though she'd been set on fire; the friction was horrendous, but she felt the unshakable urge to duck and cover. Her throat was nearly desert-like but still impossibly slick, and it <i>hurt</i>; it was like her vocal cords were aimed at shredding each other apart, nails poised and razor-sharp as they rubbed furiously together. A heart-wrenching, loud loud loud loud <i>loud</i> noise was suspended in the air, and, belatedly, she recognized it was her.</p><p>She was still screaming.</p><p>The pounding of footsteps coming from a nearby hall startled her, sending her further into the ball she was tucking herself into. She scrambled for purchase along the wall running behind her, tears pricking her eyes at the harsh texture. Everything was too <i>much</i>.</p><p>She screwed her eyes shut against the attack on her senses, and hopelessly tried to forget the feeling of a bullet entering and exiting her brain. <i>It hurts, FUCK</i>—</p><p>"[y/n]?" a muffled voice questioned, much too loud in her ear. </p><p>A large, cold, cold, <i>cold</i> hand settled her shoulder; that broiling pain that she was becoming well-acquainted with webbed through the muscle wrapping her shoulder bones, ripping the meat open with ease before cauterizing the wounds it made in its path. It was <i>Hell</i>. </p><p>In an instant, the hand was yanked away, and a new voice bloodied her eardrums.</p><p>"[y/n], zhis is Medic, remember? <i>Ja</i>? <i>Listen to mein voice</i>," Medic directed, voice level but still deafening. </p><p>Relief flooded through her system—<i>he can make this go away</i>. She trusted him to help. <i>Please</i>.</p><p>She pulled her head up from where it had been resting on her knees and peeled her eyes open. The heavens punched through the ceiling just to simply glare in judgment—oh, no, those were only the <i>lights</i>—and she recoiled harshly. </p><p>It was a Herculean task, but she managed to turn to look at the man addressing her. His features were warped as if a heavy blur had been smeared over everything in the room. Her eye caught another figure toward the left, their posture rigid and uncomfortable. </p><p>Medic started again, "I know zhe last zhing you vant to do right now is move und..." </p><p>She couldn't hear the rest. Static filled her ears with cotton, packing, packing, <i>packing</i> it into the point she could almost taste it in the back of her throat. </p><p>The Medic's mouth was still moving, pumping out syllables and consonants and words, but she couldn't catch any of them.</p><p>He snapped his thumb and middle finger together by her right ear, and the close proximity made her flinch after the fact. His brows knitted together, and a frown pulled at the corners of his mouth. </p><p>The German addressed the figure—it was Pyro, she could see them now—and tossed a handful of words at them before they moved, eyed her anxiously, and exited through the hallway they'd all come through. </p><p>For a moment, she forgot why she was panicking, but then the ghost of the 7.62 mm bullet piercing and cracking her skull into tiny little shards fractured through her once more, and the panic reared its ugly head. She'd <i>died</i>. She'd fucking been <i>shot right through the skull</i>, and based off of the room she could kind of see, she'd gone through respawn. <i>Wait</i>.</p><p>Picking up a shaky hand, she pointed at the circular, glowing machine sitting a few inches to the left that'd brought her back from her impromptu date with the Reaper. Not having taken his keen eye off her since he'd arrived, Medic's line of sight trailed down her hand, then something raw briefly flashed behind his bifocals before he had a chance to reel it in. </p><p>Without missing a beat, she saw him physically slide back into that clinical, reserved persona as he signed: <b>[I will explain later].</b></p><p>Referring back to their ASL lessons with Pyro, she signed back: <b>[Explain now].</b> </p><p>Medic shook his head, forced a sigh through his nose, and turned back toward the doorway.</p><p>Suddenly, Pyro was back in the room and carrying the Medic's bag. A cold sweat broke out across her back, and fear licked against the inside of her skin. Her head felt like a balloon, and she knew for a <i>fact</i> this man made a profession out of being a sharp pin. Why'd he ask them to grab it? What was he planning?</p><p>He took the bag from the firebug, then promptly began rooting around its contents. After a few seconds, he found what he was looking for and pulled his gloved hand out. A small tin sat dwarfed in the largeness of his paw; it looked worn, scratched to hell and back, and she was sure she saw a few scorch marks littering its olive coloring. </p><p>The Medic popped it open with an ease he'd most likely developed over the years, and plucked out a syringe. She swallowed, and the balloon in her head went down into her chest. Her vision pinholed as he flicked the barrel once, <i>twice</i> for good measure. The clear liquid inside sloshed marginally with his ministrations, and she felt sick. </p><p>Despite the pain from the harsh movement, she pancaked herself against the wall, <i>far</i> away from him. <i>He would NOT be making this better</i>. </p><p>She shook her head and felt tears bubble down her cheeks against the blistering pain it caused.</p><p>With the other hand, he signed, face set in an indifferent mold: <b>[Yes].</b></p><p>
  <i>No, no no no no no no no NO no—</i>
</p><p>Something sharp, cold, and burning pierced her skin, and she wanted—had to—look down, but in seconds, everything was oddly heavy. She was now on Jupiter—she knew that for sure, Earth's gravity had never been <i>this</i> cruel—its intense pull dragging her down to the floor with no consideration. </p><p>She felt her body wilt. <i>Oddly</i>, the last thing she saw was the concerned face of the Medic.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div><p>It smelled like cleaner. That alone tipped her off to her location, without even needing to open her eyes. </p><p>The bed beneath her was stiff and unyielding, and her body felt like it'd be locked in the same position on the damned thing for <i>weeks</i>. </p><p>Forcing her eyes open, she was met with the blazing medbay lights. They seared themselves onto her vision, causing her to blink furiously to get the imprint to disappear. She sat up to look around, but was taken aback by the incursion of dizziness; her vision spiraled into a small, fuzzy hole before it crackled away completely. </p><p>The medbay seemed to be empty at first glance, she noted. Doves sat perched on the rafters up above, and every once in a while one would coo down at her in curiosity. Noticing the one speckled in blood, she waved weakly to Archimedes, who cooed back.</p><p>Her head throbbed furiously behind her eyes, and exhaustion laid bricks on her bones as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Maybe she should go back to sleep—</p><p>"Ah, [y/n], you're awake." </p><p>The Medic was now suddenly standing by the medical, stainless-steel sink on the far wall, washing his hands. She could smell the standard-issue soap he used. It was... nice, comforting in a familiar way.</p><p>"How—" her voice warbled, and <i>damn</i> her lips were chapped, "—how long have I been here?" </p><p>He shut off the faucet, and silence flooded the large space once again. She watched him dry his hands.</p><p>"Vell, let's see..." Medic turned his back toward the sink and rested his large hands on its rim. "Pyro carried you here after I administered zhe aneszesia, zhen I monitored your resting zhe following day, giving you fluids and ozer standard medical care. I only vished to use zhe sedative, but local aneszesia vas all I had in zhe tin." He talked with his hands frequently, and she couldn't help but find the hand flippantly dicing the air charming. "So, roughly zhirty-six hours? Give or take."</p><p>She didn't know quite how to feel. </p><p>"Oh," she muttered lamely. </p><p>What had happened? She remembered being shot—a hot-cold shudder tore through her at the thought—then everything was. That was it. Everything <i>was</i>. She scraped her brain, trying in vain to remember <i>anything</i>, but she came up empty. The foreboding presence of '<i>you're MISSING something</i>' refused to let up, however. </p><p>"I, uh, I was shot." <i>Stupid</i>. </p><p>"<i>Ja</i>, you vere," he agreed. His body language was a testament to stones everywhere, as she was sure he couldn't get any more rigid. </p><p>She hadn't meant to blurt out '<i>oh, I was shot, huh</i>', but she couldn't quite believe it. <i><s>Maybe the bullet shredded her brain-to-mouth filter</s></i>. How would she ever swallow the fact that she'd actually fucking <i>died</i>? </p><p>When Miss Pauling had offered her the job of the Maintenance for the various bases the mercenaries occupied, she'd made it abundantly clear that <i>she</i> wouldn't be the one in the line of fire. Hell, the most dangerous thing she'd be doing in the team's ranks would be changing that one lightbulb out at Coldfront—none of the ladders sat balanced in the snow, so every time the bulb burnt out, Heavy would have her stand on his shoulders to replace it. </p><p>Long story short, she was incredibly safe where she was—the '<i>nine mercenaries live with me</i>' kind of guarded. There wasn't even a need for her to be registered in the respawn. But all of that was out the window. She <i>was</i> in the line of fire, and it wasn't even during a mission! It wasn't—</p><p>Wait a minute. <i>Respawn</i>!</p><p>Her head whipped up to the man who was now a shoe-throw away from her bed, then winced from the shattering pain that emanated from inside her brain. The Medic's brows furrowed angrily before smoothing out once more, and it caught her by surprise. Her mouth clicked shut.</p><p>"I'd advise against moving your head like <i>zhat</i>, <i>fräulein</i>. Your injuries are still fresh," he admonished as he shooed her back onto the bed. "You could worsen—".</p><p>"Respawn!" she blubbered out. She hated interrupting, but she knew the Medic well; if she didn't cut him off for answers now, he would steer the conversation away. </p><p>The German froze, and his ice-colored eyes bored holes into her own. She flushed under his stare, and she kicked herself internally. </p><p>"Yes," he nodded slightly, eyes still trained on her face. "Vhat about it?" </p><p>She struggled against rolling her eyes. </p><p>"Don't play obtuse, it's not befitting. Why did I respawn? <i>How</i>?" </p><p>He stood up to his intimidatingly tall height and began to fiddle with his immaculately rolled sleeves. </p><p>Medic huffed, "You sound <i>ungrateful</i>. Did you not <i>vant</i> to be brought back? Did you vant to be—be—".</p><p>"I was <i>shot</i> in the <i>head</i>."  The man winced. "I was dead for a minute and alive the next," she sighed and softened her tone. "Please, <i>explain</i> that to me." </p><p>She was upset. What was he hiding? It was incredibly clear he was uncomfortable talking about this, but considering it was the big fucking elephant in the room, it needed to be discussed. </p><p>He continued to fidget with his sleeves, eyes fixed to a point on the wall.</p><p>"You vill experience residual pain from zhe wound for a few more hours, nozing pain medication can't get rid of," Medic evaded, voice startlingly monotone. "Shock from zhe event of death and rebirth induced a minor panic attack. To compensate, your brain vould not allow any more stimuli; you <i>vere</i> overloaded viz touch—vhich vas vorsened by zhe fact it vas your first time zrough—but you had a complete loss of hearing, vhich vas combined viz a slight impairment of sight. All of zhat is gone, and I now pass you viz a clean bill of health. You may leave." </p><p>And with that, the man did an about-face, heading toward his office. Medic's hands were tucked neatly behind his back, and his spine was locked in a severe posture that made her wince in empathy.</p><p>She stood up from the bed, slowly, and tried to follow the German. Not accounting for the dizziness to pummel her again, she shot a hand out to catch herself on the medical cart that, unfortunately, had wheels. The cart squeezed out from under her weight, and sped toward the nearest row of metal lockers, leaving her to wobble. </p><p>Before she had a chance to consider bracing for imminent impact with the linoleum under her feet, two hands caught her. She stiffened as she felt his hands right her, then move to embrace her frame against his chest. After a few seconds, though, she relaxed as she heard his steady heartbeat thump against her ear. </p><p>A minute dripped by, then two, then five, and she had no desire to move. <i>But</i>...</p><p>"Why was I registered in the respawn system, Ludwig?" she asked, pinning each word to the thick air that sat around them. </p><p>Instead of stiffening up again as she'd expected, a deep, drawn-out sigh pulled itself free from inside his chest. She felt his chin rest on the top of her head, and her heart sputtered.</p><p>The moment was crafted out of paper; one good breeze, and she felt it'd all float away. </p><p>"I had to do it," the German said like that explained everything. </p><p>She stood there and waited, listening for the hitch in his breath that signified his elaboration, but nothing came. </p><p>"Miss Pauling said it wasn't necessary—"</p><p>"<i>Ja</i>, I know," Medic hissed. </p><p>His hold around her frame tightened, and she felt those first preliminary pricks of the pin on the balloon in her body. Why wouldn't he just spit it out? She wasn't a simpleton, she knew <i>how</i> she was in the respawn, all she wanted to know was why she was interfaced in its system in the first place if it wasn't needed. </p><p>"It vas... a precautionary measure. I know I can't be here all zhe time—I just needed a way to know you vould be safe if somezhing vere to happen," Ludwig continued, "<i>Mein Gott</i>, something <i>did</i> happen—ve veren't even on zhe <i>field</i> and you were attacked." Despite the soft rawness of his voice, his grip was barbed with iron. Against her ear, she could hear his heart tap-dancing along the side of his ribs. "I cannot... <i>verdammt, warum ist das so schwierig</i>?"</p><p> Her heart fluttered at his use of German—his voice always sounded far grittier in his native tongue. She bit down the warm feeling. </p><p>"When did you take my DNA?" Her voice was alarmingly calm even to her own ears. </p><p>She'd only been to him in the clinical sense for regular checkups, and he'd never taken blood or anything else of the sort with her knowledge during those times. So, that meant...</p><p>Medic pulled back, leaving his hands on the top of her shoulders. His head was turned down slightly so they could maintain eye contact, but his gaze was on everything except her.</p><p>"...You vere sleeping," he admitted. His face was perfectly neutral, however, his grasp on her shoulders gave him away. "I check on you some nights, I simply couldn't live vith...". His eyes screwed shut, and his mouth was set in a deep frown. A sigh. "You vere sleeping, as I said, and I took zhe liberty of taking zree milliliters of blood as vell as a skin sample. I zhen used zhe medigun on you, so you vould not know." </p><p>Something was telling her she should be mad—she should be <i>upset</i>, at least a little for the invasion of privacy. Hell, he checked in on her while she <i>slept</i>! <i>Big</i> red flag! Taking blood and skin without her consent? Also a huge overstep. <i>But...</i></p><p>She'd be lying if she said it didn't touch her. <s><i>In more ways than one.</i></s></p><p>"You care that much?" she questioned, laying a hand on the one holding her shoulder. </p><p>It was the first time she'd touched his hands without the gloves, and her mind was reeling at the small allowance of skin. </p><p>The small giggle that bubbled out the German was not what she was expecting as a response. His mouth pulled itself into that scary, <i>unsettlingly</i> handsome smile, and the glint of his extremely white teeth nearly blinded her. </p><p>Ludwig chuckled, "You are telling me zhat after you heard me admit to doing somezhing <i>vizout</i> your permission <i>und</i> your knowledge, you can sweep it under zhe rug because I did it for your vell-being?" </p><p>She blinked. </p><p>Yeah. He summed it up pretty well. </p><p>"We all do things that aren't great, Ludwig, at least you did something for the <i>right</i> reason." </p><p>She knew the majority of his practice was... well, unorthodox, to say the least. But he'd never went out of his way to hurt their teammates or <i>her</i>, and he'd made it obvious that he cared for his friends. He wasn't perfect, God, no, but neither was she. Christ, maybe she was crazy. But, she realized, she wouldn't have it any other way. </p><p>"You do know, though, that you could have asked me. I would have said yes to whatever you asked of me." <i>Whatever you ask of me</i>.</p><p>Medic's grin stretched into the <i>wolfish</i> territory, and a cold sweat beaded over her skin. A deep feeling started burning in her core.</p><p>He hummed, "Yes, vell, consent <i>is</i> important, and I vill consider zhat next time, I promise." <i>That's a relief</i>. "But, <i>schatz</i>," he whispered, low and gravelly as he leaned in next to her ear, "<i>You might vant to vatch vat you agree to. Especially viz me</i>." </p><p>And then the pin finally popped the balloon.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>feel free to contact me on either of my tumblrs!</p><p>•my new tf2 <a href="https://mundeee.tumblr.com/">blog</a></p><p>•my main <a href="https://thewhirlybird.tumblr.com/">blog</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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